Onyx
The situation was dire; they were vastly outnumbered, and Shane had to be running low on bullets. Dominic was bleeding freely, and he hadn’t put together another offensive spell. His defenses seemed to be holding — for now — but what if he passed out?
And he had long since made his peace with that.
Then Dominic’s hand was cupping his cheek, and the collar slid away.
Power flared through him, and he shuddered at the feeling of it flowing back into him and filling him like he was an empty cup. He might’ve gone through half of his reserves at the warehouse, but he wasn’t completely drained, and he wasn’t helpless.
Hells, even before Dominic had taken the collar off, he hadn’t been helpless.
He could’ve killed Dominic then and there by taking advantage of that injury.
Shane was too distracted, and he was hurt as well.
He’d heal quickly as a werewolf, but Onyx had had the advantage even before Dominic had removed the collar from his throat.
And now…
He looked at Dominic, his eyes cold and appraising — the eyes of the rebel that had done so much damage to Tartarus, not the boy who got excited about meals and magic or the man who surrendered to kisses and touches.
He should kill the Bancroft witch first, then the wolf, then deal with the other threats.
The other threats would cease to be threats if he neutralized Dominic and Shane, if Ambrose hadn’t been lying.
But Dominic had been convinced that he was… or he just wanted Onyx to believe that. It wasn’t like he’d want Onyx to walk off with someone else. Fuck, Onyx couldn’t even imagine Dominic letting that happen. He’d lose his mind.
But now Onyx held all of the power, and he had to decide what he wanted to do with it.
Kill Dominic and Shane.
Kill Ambrose.
Kill all of them.
Someone was going to die, one way or another; it was only a matter of who and when.
If he tried to kill Dominic and failed, their truce would come to an end. If he succeeded, he’d be free. Free. But the risk was so high. After this, he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to come back to the warehouse for an attack on his own terms, and that pissed him off.
He was striding in the direction of Ambrose’s car before he even realized he’d made his decision.
“Call off your pets,” he called out. “I’m coming.”
He ignored the constructs even as his instincts told him to take them seriously; still, if Ambrose wanted him, he wouldn’t let the constructs hurt him. And Ambrose had no reason to think that Onyx would actually be loyal to Dominic.
Because he wasn’t.
This was self-serving, pure and simple, and that was that.
He stopped several feet away from Ambrose, who was flanked by a wolf and another witch. He’d have to take them all out at once, or he’d have a big problem on his hands.
Good thing he’d been playing with projectiles back at the warehouse.
He smiled at Ambrose. “I’ve been waiting for someone to rescue me,” he said, though his tone was frosty even to his own ears. “I thought everyone who might was dead.”
“The human rebels, you mean?” Ambrose asked.
Onyx’s eyes narrowed when he noted the look of disdain on Ambrose’s face. “Yeah. Them.”
“We’re far more effective than any human rebels could hope to be,” Ambrose replied.
Onyx glanced at the other two. “I see.”
He wasn’t wrong, Onyx knew. Supes could do more than humans. But hearing it laid out like that… No.
He didn’t know when he’d made this decision, either; he called three of the little balls of fire before Ambrose could so much as blink, and he willed them through the three men in front of him.
Burning flesh filled his nostrils, but Onyx wasn’t finished. He followed those attacks up with more, stopping the werewolf dead in his tracks and ensuring that the other witch took another fireball to the face when he tried to utter the words to a spell.
But Onyx was primarily focused on Ambrose, whose shields had stopped Onyx’s attack from landing.
He didn’t give the witch a chance to gather himself, though, instantly forcing him onto the defensive instead.
He attacked as he’d been taught, with a physical barrage to shatter Ambrose’s shields before following that up with flames.
Ambrose fought to re-summon more shields, but it was too late; Onyx had stepped into his guard, and he smiled with grim satisfaction as he took the witch down.
The werewolf had recovered some and was going for Onyx, but Onyx had trained with a werewolf much faster and more skilled than this one could ever hope to be.
Still, it took him time to dispatch the wolf, too, then he stepped on the neck of the other witch just for good measure to make sure he wasn’t going to get back up.
The constructs had vanished, leaving him with three bodies on the ground, and Onyx stepped back before setting them on fire with a few licks of a flame on clothing.
He watched for several moments as the flames began to consume them, then turned his back and returned to Dominic and Shane.
His eyes remained cold and distant as they locked onto Dominic’s. “Don’t move,” he warned quietly.
“Onyx.” Dominic met Onyx’s eyes without flinching, without fear. The suppression collar dangled from his fingers. His words held only admiration as he murmured, “Beautifully done.”
Onyx inhaled slowly, the scent of scorched flesh still in his nostrils, and watched Dominic dispassionately. His eyes flicked briefly to Shane but ultimately returned to rest on Dominic, whose life hung in the balance.
What should he do?
He was a warrior, not a general; he was a killer, not a strategist.
He knew what Paul Franklin and Marcos Sandoval would’ve told him to do. They’d tell him to kill Dominic without a second thought, and Onyx considered it. Even mostly depleted, he was sure he could battle past Dominic’s defenses and set him ablaze, too.
If he chose not to, it would be a choice he’d have to live with.
There would be no walking away from Dominic. Dominic would hunt Onyx to the ends of the earth to reclaim him. There was only this — life and death — and he had every reason to kill Dominic, didn’t he? If he didn’t, he’d return to being his slave, his toy, his pet.
And he’d have chosen it.
“Drop your shields,” Onyx said, his voice still quiet.
A smile played at the corner of Dominic’s lips. “Are you my Sword of Damocles in the end, then, Onyx Rayne?”
“Drop. Your. Shields.”
Dominic tilted his head as he visibly considered Onyx’s request. Orders. “Very well."
Shane made a strangled noise behind him, but Dominic flicked his fingers at the wolf.
Dominic’s shields fell away, one by one, until he was completely unprotected, then he held his hand out toward Onyx. “Come here.”
Strange emotions fluttered through him, and Onyx realized he’d been holding his breath. He’d been hoping Dominic would refuse so he’d have justification to attack, justification he shouldn’t have needed.
But Dominic had obeyed, and he stood there, devoid of any protective spells. That didn’t mean he couldn’t conjure one into life if Onyx attacked, but it was very, very unlikely that Dominic would survive an attempt.
For the first time in months, Onyx held the power.
Except he didn’t, not really, because he moved to obey without even thinking it through. He stepped in close, just within reach.
Dominic reached out to catch Onyx by the hips and draw him closer, no faster or slower than he would on any other occasion. “My beautiful brightly burning tiger,” he murmured.
Onyx took a deep breath, knowing he had only minutes before reinforcements would arrive and he’d lose any chance he might’ve had at running.
But what kind of life would he have if he ran?
He’d constantly have to worry about someone hunting him down, whether it was Dominic or an enforcer or someone else entirely.
He didn’t know how to take care of himself.
He didn’t have anything to call his own, and he was ignorant of how the world worked for adults.
If Dominic died, Onyx would need to die, too.
Was he really ready to die? Did he want that now? He was trapped, becoming something he neither liked nor understood. But he didn’t know if he was ready to call it quits this time.
“I should kill you,” Onyx whispered.
“You probably should,” Dominic agreed, his voice equally soft. “I’m not sure you’ll get another chance to.”
Onyx lifted one hand, and a golf ball sized fireball appeared in his palm.
It circled and twisted, heat emanating from it, and he regarded it for a long moment.
“I will,” he said. He let out a choked sound, something that might’ve been an attempt at a laugh.
“But who knows if I’ll take it then either?
” He extinguished the flames, and they vanished from sight.
Dominic’s fingers flexed on Onyx’s hip before his hand was lifting to tangle in Onyx’s hair and tip his face up for a kiss.
Kill him!
The voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to kill Dominic, to end this. To turn to Shane and kill him too, to walk away from this with a blank slate. He could survive, somehow. He could figure it out, somewhere that wasn’t New Orleans.
He let himself be kissed.
Dominic slid the collar around Onyx’s throat and locked it into place.
Everything stopped, the world halting on its axis, and Onyx’s breath stuttered as the feeling of loss slammed into him with such force that he staggered from it. Everything drained of color, of feeling, of meaning, and he was left feeling hollow once more.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
“I did,” Dominic disagreed softly. “But there will still be times when it can come off again.”
Onyx managed a humorless smile. “Then I guess I’ll have other chances to kill you.”
Chances Onyx wouldn’t take.
Tiger or not, he’d been de-fanged, hadn’t he?
Except… He glanced in the direction of the burning bodies. No. He hadn’t. He was still dangerous, and he only intended to become more dangerous, not less so.
Dominic cupped Onyx’s face in his hand, thumb brushing over his cheek as he gazed at Onyx’s face. “You’re mine.”
Looking back at Dominic, Onyx replied quietly, “Am I?”
Dominic’s eyes darkened. “Mine.” One word, staking claim and ownership, utterly and completely. “You are and will always belong to me.”
Onyx shuddered at the look in Dominic’s eyes.
He’d made a mistake not to kill him, hadn’t he? But no. He needed to learn. That way, the next time he had the chance, he’d have half a plan. It would have to end in death, though.
There was no running from a living, breathing Dominic Bancroft. The only way he was getting free was through death — his, or Dominic’s, and even his own didn’t guarantee freedom from anything.
“For now,” Onyx said.
Dominic chuckled.
Behind him, Shane said, “They’re here.”
Dominic growled.
Onyx glanced at Shane, then looked back at Dominic. He stroked the other witch’s cheek lightly with his fingertips. “You need to have your shoulder looked at. Or get blood. Or something,” he remarked.
“I’ll be fine,” Dominic said curtly. “We’re taking one of the cars." He looked at the vehicles that were drawing up and stopping, but he kept himself between Onyx and the cars. “Shane, drive us back. You can coordinate with them from there since all this needs now is cleanup.”
Shane nodded, moving toward the nearest vehicle to speak with the driver.
“They’re going to wonder about the fire." Onyx's eyes went back to the bodies.
Dominic shrugged, immediately hissing in pain. “Let them.”
When Shane waved them over, Dominic guided Onyx in that direction, still staying between him and all of the new arrivals.
“Crissie is going to have one of the teams come out to look through the wreckage and see if there’s anything important that we need to make sure to retain,” Shane said when they were close enough. “Once we make sure they’re scrubbed, we’ll just toss them in a salvage lot.”
Dominic nodded. “Good.”
Shane opened the door of the car to help Dominic get in, another hiss of pain escaping him.
Onyx got into the vehicle behind Dominic, resting his head against the window.
He’d had the opportunity to kill Dominic. He hadn’t taken it.
Why?
“I don’t understand,” he said. “How did they even know where to find you? Us?”
“I don’t know,” Dominic replied grimly. “But I will find out.”
Onyx nodded, falling silent.
He didn’t quite know how everything had gone down once he’d been put to sleep, but he did know that it would likely dissuade Dominic from taking him to the warehouse any time soon.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Dominic had said he’d remove his collar again, and he wouldn’t risk doing that inside his own home, which meant he had some plan… but he’d have to figure out what had gone wrong first.
Onyx closed his eyes, his hand moving up to touch the collar at his throat. Why had he helped Dominic? Why hadn’t he gone with Ambrose — no, that one was easy; he didn’t trust any supes.
The big question was why he hadn’t killed Dominic, and he had a feeling that one would be haunting him for a while.[10]